Walking through the hard, cold doors
Stepping on the hard, cold floors
with bare feet
and a silk gown
feeling as if in The Twilight Zone
or atleast way, far out of town
the nurse tells me to lie down
and she'll be right back around
with the
sterilizer
tranquilizer
poison
mind killer
thought thief
universal conformer
or simply
shot
with a monotone, passionless voice,
she tells me it'll all be over soon,
and I'll be just like the rest of them,
no free will after the injection
I try to scream and protest
but nothing comes out
I don't want this idiocity
oh why won't she hear me
why won't she listen
I'm not like the others
I can't be
I think
I read
I feel
It's against everything they believe in
Running down the halls
faster than their fake faces can
out the paper thin, mirror doors,
leading to a courtyard of
plastic trees &
plastic benches &
plastic people
doing plastic things like
looking in the many mirrors placed everywhere &
talking with no end
I refuse to be one of their barbie dolls
I'll go where my feet take me
and never stop
running
or thinking
or reading
or feeling
or going against them
because what a wonderful thing it is to have a vivid mind
they can't take that away
not now
not ever
my mind is my vice
leaving me vulnerable, yet powerful
But if it's wrong to have a mind,
please let me die along with my injustices